


Stuck in my Head

by ClaudetteKovski



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:40:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27018937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaudetteKovski/pseuds/ClaudetteKovski
Summary: After Roland Garros Sascha finds himself in Cologne competing. One of the nights he receives a very unexpected call.
Relationships: Stefanos Tsitsipas/Alexander Zverev
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys if you're here you like Saschanos. I do too. I want to clarify two things, I'm very new to tennis fandom and I'm not sure if even if I like realistic details I might not be updated on where they live or are in general. So let's just remember this is a fanfiction, although I will always try to be a little bit realistic. 
> 
> Secondly I wrote this on my phone a little bit in the heat of the moment. Not sure where this is going but I wanted to post it as chapter one to test the waters and see if people likes it? Make me know if you like it. Might get explicit in the future or mature, not sure yet, alsoake me know if you like that.

His phone started buzzing, making an annoying sound against the nightstand wooden surface. Almost causing him an unconscious heart-attack to a sleeping Sascha in the middle of the night.   
  
He grabbed his phone without turning around and placed it on his ear without looking the name on the screen.  
  
"It better be important" Sascha attempted to sound intimidating but in reality he was still half asleep and his sentence was barely understandable on the other side of the phone.  
  
“Every day 20-25 times. In the nights, too. And in my dreams, too." The male voice with sadness in his words spoke.

"Wh– what?" Sascha was starting to feel awake enough to process what he just said.  
"It's what you said in your interview today, I saw it on Twitter." He clarified.  
"Who the fuck is this? If you think it's funny to call me in the middle of the night to remind me how stu–" Sascha was ready to rant about how lame he thought that statement had sounded. How much he regretted showing that weakness right after saying it. The other voice didn't let him though.  
  
"It's Stefanos" it sounded like he wanted to say something else but he actually kept quiet. While Sascha pulled the phone away from his ear to double check the name on the screen. The annoying philosopher , that's how he had saved him, initially he had him as Stefanos Tsitsipas because it was the appropriate thing to do. Some years ago some players including them both were in a WhatsApp group chat and Stefanos started some philosophical debate over something they were talking about, sending messages of twenty lines the shortest one and links to videos of 'relevant people' giving TED talks. Then Sascha changed his name in his contact list and sent a screenshot to the group chat. And he has had that nickname ever since. Not that they used to talk out of the group chat, more like never, but that day Stefanos was calling him, and Sascha realized it was the first time ever Stefanos called him.  
  
"What do you want..? You know what time is it? Are you really calling at 3 a.m. to laugh at me? Because that's too cruel for someone like you, at least you could wait until–"   
  
"Alexander, I'm not calling to laugh at you, I would never. I...I need a friend and well...to talk" Stefanos sounded sincere that was what surprised Sascha the most.  
  
"We are not friends, yet if you call me Alexander again I will hang up on you, if you suddenly think we're close enough to call me in the middle of the night at least call me Sascha." Sascha's tone was so sarcastic that Stefanos couldn't really tell if he was angry and about to hang up on him anyways or it was his normal self.  
  
However, it was true, they weren't friends, Sascha didn't mean to be rude despite being woken up at 3 a.m. He just said the truth, they had never been friends, during the last Laver Cup they had been living on a cloud. There everything was about the team spirit so they kinda got drunk on that feeling and actually seemed to like each other for some days. When Sascha won that last match and he suddenly felt Stefanos’ body on top of him he couldn't believe it was him and not Domi the first to reach him. Even with everyone on top of him he could only feel Stefanos’ body. It was a weird feeling and nowadays he still didn't know why or how to describe it. After they parted ways their relationship was back to normal. Maybe they had only acquired a new level of cordiality.  
  
Yet Stefanos Tsitsipas was calling him in the middle of the night and that sounded like too much for what the word cordiality meant.

“I know, Sascha” after a long silence where Sascha didn’t speak either he continued. “I need to see you”  
Again, silence.  
“Do you want to skype or...”  
“No, I...I need to see you please, can we meet?” His voice was trembling as if he feared a no for an answer. He had prepared himself for that possibility, after all this had been a really crazy plan.

  
“Oh, Stefanos, are you back in Monaco? I’m sorry , I’m competing in Cologne this week...” Sascha assumed that it made sense he didn’t know, because neither did he know about Stefanos’ schedule.

  
“Yeah, I know, I saw you playing with your brother today, I’m sorry you lost you seemed to have fun” Sascha froze for a moment, not sure why, he had been there, he was there right now, that’s what he meant, and he had watched him play and for some reason he couldn’t tell that was the detail that made him feel a bit awkward.

  
“You... watched me, what? Oh God. You’re outside the hotel waiting, aren’t you?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conversation doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Happy you liked chaoter one! Hope you like thia one too!   
> Please bear in mind English is not my first language and I write on my phone. So sorry if there are big spelling or grammar mistakes🙏

Yes. He was. Stefanos had come all the way to Cologne after saying he was injured and he wouldn’t play in St. Petersburg. The truth is he had secured his spot in the finals and he was injured indeed, but it wasn’t that bad. In reality he felt in need of a break, and it occurred to him that break was blonde and almost two meters tall. 

Sascha knew, he didn’t know why but he was 100% sure he had to get dressed, go out and he would find Stefanos Tsitsipas out there in the street.  
And he did. The night was cold and dark with full moon shining on the sky, and the street was so calm that Stefanos casually leaning on a wall made him feel like he was in a dream. Not that Stefanos was a dream, he told himself, of course not, but this was so surreal he had to pinch his arm to check he was actually awake.

But the Greek was there and now Sascha was facing him unable to speak, he thougt Stefanos should do it first, after all if he had come all the way here he had for sure something to say, he’s the one who wanted to talk.

Sascha found himself feeling less cold, a certain smell of a fruity conditioner scent embracing him, soft curly hair caressing his cheeks and two long arms folding around his waist, ending in the Greek’s body pressing against his own.

Ironically, Sascha was frozen, he wasn’t cold but he couldn’t move for what he could tell it was a second or an eternity.   
Turns out that the philosopher ran out of words. And Sascha was so confused that he started considering if that was what it was, but after much consideration he accepted it, he didn’t understand why but Stefanos Tsitsipas was hugging him so tight that it made him furious.

The German finally reacted and pushed him away so hard Stefanos almost lost his balance.  
“What the fuck are you doing asshole?! Get the fuck away from me! Jesus... You’re such a weirdo sometimes...” Now he tried to maintain a certain distance , with his hands in his pockets he looked straight at Stefanos. He didn’t meet his eye though, his hazel eyes were focused on the ground. Until he looked up to meet Sascha’s glance.

“I’m sorry, can we go for a walk? Somewhere nice and quiet?”  
“Only if you promise to not hug me again” Stefanos thought that probably Sascha meant it, yet he couldn’t help but show a little smile on his face while he nodded.

They walked in complete silence and some minutes later they were sitting on the grass of a park so quiet it felt wrong to be there. 

“So?” Sascha spoke after some moments of silence, turning his head to Stef who was still with his eyes fixed on the grass. “Stefanos? You’re going to tell me why you’re here?”

“I... you’ll hate me” The German let out a short amd sarcastic laugh.

“You’re wrong, I already hate you” And then for the first time since they started walking Stefanos dared to look at him.

“No, you don’t.”

“Stefanos, I swear to god... I’m begging you, talk, I have a match tomorrow I should be resting.” 

“Im sorry... You’re right, you’re right, it’s just...Roland Garros.” Sascha looked at him with a puzzled face, he didn’t need to say anything. The Greek realized he didn’t understand. “I lost, and I can’t stop thinking about that match with Novak...I thought–”

“Don’t you dare.” The German’s tone was low now, very cold and serious. Stefanos knew that he had to be very delicate on how he approached what he had come to ask. However with Sascha it wasn’t easy. And his words now sounded like he was ready to throw knives at him.

“Sascha I... it’s just, I wanted to ask you how–”

“How what huh? How do I cope with a defeat like that?” Sascha’s voice was getting more aggressive with every word he spoke. “How do I stop thinking about it? Or how I pretend to do it? Huh?! Did you really come here because you thought our matches are comparable?!” Sascha was furious to the point of having all his muscles tensed up and his hands trembling. Then he couldn’t stand it any more and he grabbed Stefanos by the collar of his shirt. His eyes fixed on Stefanos’ and his fist clenched on the air. Stefanos knew he had screwed up, this is by no means how he had planned the night. He was shaking, he wasn’t fearing Sascha most likely punching him on the face. Oh no, he feared among all things that he had hurt the German player. Because Sascha might be shaking with rage and the blood boiling through all his body, but his eyes were watering and shiny despite being so dark. “That’s why you needed?!” Sascha pushed Stefanos down until he was laying with his back on the grass and climbed on top of him. Stefanos couldn’t move but he didn’t dare to do it anyways. “You thought if he’s able to deal with such a pathetic loss he can definitely teach me how to deal with mine. Didn’t you?! You really think...I must be the king of coping with big disappointments.” The hand that was previously on the air joined the other one grabbing Stefanos’ shirt, a bit stronger and Stefanos thought he could rip it off. Sascha had lowered his body so much that his face was only a few centimetres away from the Greek’s one. 

  
“Sascha, no... that’s not–” It was useless Sascha wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes were looking at him but it was an empty look.

  
“Don’t you dare to fucking compare it, don’t you dare, you lost a fucking semifinal. You weren’t that close...You didn’t feel your hands on the trophy when they were still on your racket serving for the match. You have no idea how it feels to...” Sascha’s speech was stuttering, his voice started to feel weak and then Stefanos knew, he had broken him. “how it feels to disappoint everyone who believed in you and even yourself, because for a second, for even twice in the match you thought you would get it. You have no fucking idea...” 

And then, as if Stefanos saw it in slow-motion a tear fell from Sascha’s eyes right on his cheek. He didn’t say anything but Sascha seemed to come back to his senses, he stood up as fast as he could, shocked, he looked away from Stefanos who remained on the ground unsure of what to do.  
“Fuck you.” Sascha turned his back on the Greek and left. 

Stefanos stayed there for a while thinking of how of all the things he could have gotten from Sascha he got the worse. He knew there was nothing Sascha hated more than showing his weakness to others. He touched his cheek for a second and closed his eyes, how was he going to fix that? He wondered. This had been a very bad idea, he should have been clearer since the beginning, he should have tried to calm him down. But having him on top of him, so close, made him forget the alphabet in all the languages he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How will I make these two not lovebirds end up together? Not sure but probably next chapter will be the last. Hmm.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Make me know with some kudos. I'll write next chapter soon (^^)


End file.
